In the Room: with Olona Tywabi

WeWork Story Exclusive | 15 Aug 2026 | 8 min read | Goes well with a coffee from Alec

By: Natasha Fracchiolla, WeWork Correspondent

Umtata. SABC. A bus ride. And Trevor Noah. Four unusual plot points that would rarely (if ever) make it to the same WhatsApp Group – unless you're Olona Tywabi. A small town girl with a big town mentality. She was raised in rural Eastern Cape. She grew up on pies and Powerade™, her Makhulu's stories, and the stretch of a single-mom teacher's salary. In effect, she was primed to pursue a hard-won career; a career that would take a whole lot more than beginner's luck.

In fact, this is one woman's story that has nothing to do with luck, and everything to do with grit, grace and the guts to show up for her name.

Olona Tywabi at WeWork The Link, Rosebank

"It's not an adjective!"

"It's not an adjective!" is what Olona's Mom said on the day Olona dragged herself home, following a heated debate with a company chairman. The man in the room insisted Olona's name was incomplete. According to him, she was an 'unfinished expression' that 'needed something more'.

Olona looks me squarely in the eyes when she tells this story, like the earth might crack open if she blinked away her truth for just a second.

She tells me she was embarrassed. She was confused by the man's comments; that her name 'Olona' — translated from isiXhosa as "The Best…" — was not a full and real name. It was an adjective.

"The Best?!" he said, "The Best, what?!" "Your name has nothing to describe," he said, "Go back and ask your Mother."

"When I asked my Mom, she got angry." Olona shares. "She told me: 'your name means 'The Best'! It's Olona - full stop. It's not incomplete. And it's NOT an adjective. It's the fullness of who you are. Go tell him it's a noun! And it's a verb too! You ARE the best. The end'."

Olona laughs at this epic moment. A moment etched in her memory forever. A memory that would ultimately set her path alight with determination, second to none.

"I used to think being 'The Best' meant having it all figured out."

"Where I come from, your name carries an identity. Traditionally, when you are named in isiXhosa, this becomes your purpose in life," Olona says.

With her proud South African lineage, Olona grew up to embrace her name, but could not have imagined the weighted purpose ahead; one that would find her defending not only the best of herself, but protecting the best of every woman, child and teacher in the room.

"I used to think being 'The Best' meant having it all figured out. But, when 'The Best' plays out in a boardroom full of men — suddenly your name carries a different purpose. Somehow, you're compelled instinctively to speak up and be assertive for every other woman sitting beside you. For me, it's become about walking into a space as the best version of yourself for the collective good."

"Still today, I feel nervous to claim my voice at times – but I'm learning that it's important not to feel intimidated in the room; rather do the hard thing the best way you can; to open your mouth, to hear your own voice, and to ultimately change the story," she lights up with her bright smile.

"I didn't take this bus just to return home with nothing"

As a Rhodes Journalism Graduate, and a spirited African communications leader, Olona admits that she hustled her way in when she arrived at the SABC (South African Broadcast Corporation) at 22 years old. She was unannounced and unsupervised, and determined AF.

"As a young woman with a limited backdrop, I always had one big vision: 'I wanted to leave Umtata, live in Joburg and work for the SABC. I didn't think I'd need to lie to do it!" She admits, humourously.

"I mean, what's a small town girl from Umtata to do, right?! I was freshly graduated, with no job, no plan – and zero connections at the SABC," she chuckles.

"In my defence though, I had sent an email to the 'Big Boss' of the SABC prior to my arrival — Mr Molete, at the time — and told him I'd happily volunteer to work if he'd just give me a chance." No answer. Of course.

"So, I took my chances and I bought a bus ticket anyway. The longest bus ride ever, from Umtata to Joburg. The entire trip took roughly 18 hours!"

When Olona arrived at the SABC, she found her way to Mr Molete's PA and confidently announced that she had an appointment (the lie!) courtesy of their 'email correspondence'.

"He should be expecting me," she said. Of course, he wasn't.

"This was 9am," she tells me, "I told his PA I would wait. I was prepared to wait as long as it takes. I didn't ride the bus just to return home with nothing."

Five hours later, Olona's turn arrived.

Olona explains that when Mr Molete walked in, he asked: 'Who's Olona, here?'

Olona describes the moment in great detail. Her body shook. Her palms clammed. She took a breath and raised her hand. She said her name — and for the first time, she heard her own voice breaking the ceiling for generations to come.

It was that summit, and one unexpected conversation, that would usher Olona into an SABC internship that would change her trajectory forever.

"Transformation isn't individual. It's generational."

"That day, in Mr Molete's building, I showed up as me. Olona. With my nerves, my fears, my dreams, my voice and my name. Nothing more needed – as my Mom told me."

"My Mom is one of the strongest, bravest women I know and she raised my siblings and I to show up brave — but always with respect, and with authenticity; she taught us never to care what people said; just to stand up tall and show up as us."

"In some way, when I think of it now, I was showing up that day for my Mom too – and for her Mom – and for my Dad — and for all my siblings — and for my future son," says Olona.

"I realise on reflection that I wasn't only living my dream; I was carrying a generational dream that I was meant to fulfil. And I've been doing that ever since. I think that's what community asks of us — to become the dream sherpas for our lineage; to carry forward the hopes of those before us, and make the path lighter for those still to come."

From her genesis at the SABC, Olona eventually carried her story through a variety of opportunities in government, film and entertainment, fundraising, strategic leadership, and finally her most suited role — as Communications Manager of the globally-embossed Trevor Noah Foundation. A place where stories of transformation are finding voice among youth and adults.

"Giving voice to your ideas, your thoughts and your story is a hard thing nobody wants to do…"

Olona shares that the power of your voice alongside your name holds great impact in claiming your story. "Giving voice to your ideas, your thoughts and your story is a hard thing nobody wants to do, and yet every single person has the right to do it – and should be doing it!"

Olona grew up on stories. She took her first story cues from her beloved Makhulu. "Ah Makhulu, she told stories that would quiet the room. She made stories funny, doable, memorable. Because of my gran, I believe storytelling is innate in me."

"This is why the education and development space feels like home for me. At the Trevor Noah Foundation, we believe stories of transformation have an inspirational, aspirational and generational ripple effect. When one person finds the courage to use her voice, she gives another person permission to find theirs."

"Transformation is not a one-man show. We become, because they've become."

For Olona, leadership is less about individual success and more about what that success makes possible for someone else.

"When we remember who we are behind our titles, we can meet people where they are. Before I am a Communications Manager – I am a woman, I am a mother, I am someone's sister, and someone's daughter," she says proudly.

Her work at the Trevor Noah Foundation is grounded in equality for all, and in creating access to equitable education; helping young people find their voice, tell their stories and, ultimately, steer their own lives.

"I believe we speak things into existence. And when you give young people a voice, you never know what you'll hear — and they'll never know who is listening."

"Transformation is not a one-man show," Olona says, "We become, because they've become — and in our becoming, we're helping others become too. Lasting transformation happens at a systemic level — and never in isolation."

"At the foundation you can show up as you are – I love that!"

"My placement at the Trevor Noah Foundation is just another example of how someone heard my voice in a room, and helped me become my best self. It was also a dream of mine to work alongside Trevor Noah."

"When Trevor opened his foundation, you must know…what was the first thing I did — I sent an email!!" Her laugh sparkles in the atmosphere around us.

"I love that at the foundation you can show up as you are. This is also why choosing to have our office at WeWork aligns so well with our values. To work inside a world class environment like WeWork The Link that rewards you for showing up as you are, is incredibly powerful."

"Actually, I remember when I interviewed for the job, at WeWork The Link, our Co-founder Shalane Yuen asked me why I want to work for the foundation. To be honest, I said, 'have you tried the coffee, have you seen the building?!'"

"We are all stories in this building"

For 'Olona The Best' — we are all stories in this building. Today, Olona proudly carries her name — not only for herself — but for all her colleagues, partners, women of the world and the people in her family that encouraged her to go, to stay, to stick, and to tell the stories that would change lives.

"We have this value at the Trevor Noah Foundation: always leave a place better than you found it. But I wonder — what if we could leave a place the very best it's ever been?"